A Series Of Firsts
by RobbieChanie
Summary: A series of firsts for Carter and Abby. After forever and a day, we're finally back with a new chapter *1/17*!
1. Default Chapter

**The Relationship Chronicles: A Series of Firsts**

Lately on the Carby board at FF, a bunch of us have been writing little Carby snippets that we'd love to see on the show.  Hence the birth of this series – if you'd call it that.  We have decided to devote this "story" to collecting a series of short romantic snippet scenes between Carter and Abby.  They will appear in no apparent order and will be predominantly a catalogue of some important firsts in the relationship.  At present, there is really no beginning or end, only the hopes for an ongoing place to keep these scenes.  We'd also like to mention that each scene is compiled by different authors.  Comments and feedback are both greatly appreciated.  Enjoy and feel free to contact us if you'd like to contribute to the compilation or have a request of a scene you'd like for one of us to write.  

~~~ 

Robbie's Rambings: This snippet is an Abby POV ficlet that follows her thoughts and feelings during the last scene of the Season 8 finale 'Lockdown.' Thus, it contains spoilers through the end of Season 8, and yes, I do realize that I've plucked the exact dialogue from 'Lockdown.'  My purpose is to open up the relationship chronicles with the firsts of firsts in this relationship – the first Carby kiss, with insight from Abby. It's written by me, Robbie, (curlygurly87@hotmail.com) and I'd love to hear your thoughts! Enjoy …

_~~~ _

_            I watch the door click shut with a resounding thud and briefly focus on the retreating figure of David Torres, one of the CDC representatives that's come to County to take over our little 'situation'.  I'm not sure whether to fill a thrilling jolt of enthusiasm at the prospect of being locked up in a room with the object of my affections or to dread the confinement.    _

_            As I turn back, Carter's eyes briefly meet mine, communicating instantly his frustration with the situation.  The spark of emotion seems to send his restlessness and savage feelings of captivation my way as these very emotions flare within me.  I avert my eyes, breaking the intense gaze and watch as Carter walks across the room, stopping and rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. _

_            "How much does this suck?" I deadpan; my voice is surprisingly dry with unbridled sarcasm and irritation. _

_            He speaks up. "The department would like to thank you, but we can't bring you a fan …" Carter mimics the administration, voice dripping with sarcasm. He pulls idly at his scrub top, discomfort shining bright as a decoy across his face.  "Is it just me, or is it like a sauna in here? I'm soaked." His face contorts in disgust, looking up at me and dropping his hands to his sides. _

_            If we weren't in danger of loosing our lives, I might even make some crack about him taking off his shirt.  I impulsively step forward, touching a cool finger to his forehead.  Out of nowhere, a chuckle escapes out of my lips and I crack a smile. Maybe it's the heat, or maybe it's the pleasure of the electricity that passes through me as our skin makes contact.  The hair on my arms prickles in anticipation. _

_            "Do you have a fever?"_

_            "No."_

_            He pulls away in surprise, sending me a glare of stubborn annoyance.  If it was anybody else, I'd be on my way to pissed at this point, but his pout does nothing more than to make me weak in the knees.    _

_            "Sit down" I suggest, the nurse in me jumping into action.  I shoot him a playful grin before moving to pick up a thermometer off the counter.      _

_            "I'm fine," he assures me, trying to resist becoming the patient.  _

_            "Just sit down!" I command, coming off slightly more annoyed than I mean to.  However, he sits all the same and I hand him the thermometer.  _

_              
            "Take your temperature," I tell him, in no way asking, but telling.  Immediately, stubbornness flashes across his face and I put myself up for a fight.  _

_  
            "I'm not infectious," he states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.  At this point, I'm beginning to get slightly annoyed with his tough guy attitude.  Or maybe it's the heat and the isolation finally getting to me. _

_            "Just stick the thermometer in your ear," I counter, my flashing eyes daring him to refuse me again.  Any other day under different circumstances this whole thing would be slightly funny – and I'm sure in after sight we'll laugh.  But now, I need him to shut his mouth and let me take care of him.    
  
_

_            He complies with my demand, sulking slightly but picking up on my venomous vibes.  Any other day, I would take pleasure in the power I have over him, but there's no more space in this cramped little room for any more emotion.  _

_            I cross the room, walking over to the supply cabinet. As I open the wooden door, a coil snaps out of place and the door springs back and hits me in the forehead.  I swing back in annoyance; cursing the door under my breath and with added force, successfully open the cabinet.  I reach in and quickly locate an ice-pack, taking the plastic sac into my hands and beginning to crush it.  _

_            "It started out like a normal day, huh?" Suddenly he's trying to make conversation and possibly to apologize for his earlier behavior. Malik's words echo in my head. _

_            "Just kiss and make up." _

_            My heart skips a beat as I feel the small sac within the plastic bag rupture and the inner fluid spreads rapidly throughout the bag.  In a matter of seconds, the entire mixture turns cold against my warm skin.    
  
            I turn and begin walking back to where he's sitting. Carter holds up the thermometer in triumph. _

_            "99. Told you."   _

_            "Okay," I assent, letting him bask in the results of his testosterone-fest.  I fold the ice pack in half and reach around his neck with the icepack, arranging it against the back of his neck. "You're still hot."_

_            We sit in compatible silence for a second or two as he closes his eyes in apparent pleasure.  Before I allow my mind to wander and wonder if he could be enjoying the feeling of my arms around his neck I speak again. "Is that better?"_

_            He nods, looking me in the eye.  There's a beat.  I focus my eyes above his head at a stain on the bright yellow of the trauma room wall then slowly avert my eyes back to meet his gaze. _

_            "The worst of this is over, right?" For the first time since I can remember, I'm scared and actually seeking comfort.  Comfort from him.  He draws a breath, looking away and then back up at me.  I try to read his expression, but can't.    
  
  
_

_            "Tell me we're going to be okay" I murmur. My voice is the epitome of fear itself; raw and exposed. I'm begging for his reassurance, pleading for comfort amidst the feelings coursing through my body.  _

_            His eyes focus downward, fixing his gaze on something … the floor? Suddenly I'm overcome by a rush of energy that explodes across my body in goose bumps.  I'm hot and cold at the same time, waiting for his answer. I inhale sharply, but before I can release the air, his lips are on mine.  Soft and full, they grope tenderly against mine.  My hands are still wrapped around his clammy neck, and I pull him closer leaning expectantly into the kiss as he pulls away. _

_            The look in his eyes now is almost unreadable.  With my chest wrenching against my rib cage, I realize that he's terrified; looking to me for guidance.  But at the same time, the look in his eyes is so encouraging and brings such comfort. A comfort like that I've never felt before.  These new feelings devour me, and I hunger for his touch. He stands up, coming towards me and I lean in expectantly, rearranging my hands closer to his flesh. _

_            "We're going to be okay," he whispers.  My heart melts … I can't see straight.  I'm in my own fantasy world, just me and him, together in eternity.  It's a struggle to breathe as he speaks again with a newer solidity, conviction, and sureness that I've seen shine through him in midst of all troubles, time and time again, "We're going to be okay."_

_            Before I know what's happening, his lips are on mine again.  This time I reciprocate, eagerly entering his mouth with my tongue; glorifying in his heated, salty taste.  The kiss deepens and I pull him closer as my arms snakes up his shoulder, gently massaging all the while. _


	2. Chapter Two

Chanie's Note: This part was written by me, contains NC-17 material. If you don't like smut, turn around now, this isn't for you.   
  
~~  
  
Abby groaned and flipped through the countless channels on her TV.  
"What a boring night..." She thought to herself. John had promised her before he would stop by after his shift that night for dinner, but it was almost midnight and he still hadn't turned up. She was a little disappointed, this was their chance at a romantic evening, which *maybe* could have led to something more. Abby knew they were both ready for the next step. They just hadn't found a good time. Sighing, she got to her feet, uncovered herself from the blanket she had draped over herself, and turned off the television. It looked like that "good time" wasn't going to be that night. She was about to turn off the light and retreat into her bedroom when there was a knock on the door. Her heart skipped a beat. Finally. Abby waited a few moments, just so she wouldn't look too desperate, and walked to door. She took one more moment to relax herself before opening the door.   
"Hey." Abby said breathlessly to the man in the doorway.   
"Did you miss me?" John tilted his head and smiled.  
Abby put a hand on her hip and stepped aside to let him into the apartment, closing the door after him. "I was just about to go to bed."   
John put his hands around her waist and pulled her to him. "What was stopping you from going before? It's late."  
Abby kissed him on the lips. "I was waiting for you...but I guess it's too late to make dinner for you."   
"Yeah."  
"We could just....watch TV..." Abby suggested.   
John looked uncertain. "You sure you don't want to just go to sleep? I can come back tomorrow morning, and I'll even make breakfast for you." He smiled down at her.  
Abby couldn't help but think about how gorgeous John looked when he smiled. "Right, *you* make me breakfast. With those fabulous culinary skills you have?" She said sarcastically.   
"Hey! I know how to make toast!" He winked at her.   
Her knees melted. She shook her head to clear all the thoughts floating around in it, and spoke again.   
"We never get to spend any time together, and what if we get paged tomorrow? We have time right now, let's use it."   
"And there's plenty ways we can use it."  
Taking her hand his, Abby pulled him to the couch with her. She turned on the TV again and put the blanket sitting on a side of the couch over her and John. "Perfect." She said, smiling up at him. Even if this wasn't going to be the night they finally gave into their innermost yearnings and desires, Abby was still glad he was there with her. She felt safe. As much as she hated it, she always felt better when someone was with her in the apartment, after the incident with Brian. "Thanks for coming."  
"Thanks for letting me stay."  
They watched the television in silence until Abby let out a yawn.   
John glanced over at her. "I better go, you're tired."  
He started to get up, but Abby pulled him back down. "No, don't go. Please?" She kissed him softly. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Abby looked into his tranquil brown eyes and absently played with his shirt collar. She could get lost in those eyes so easily.   
Abby finally got up the courage to address her feelings. "We've been together for awhile, and we didn't want to rush things, but if we made love, I think we would be ready for it." At John's expression, she quickly added, "Of course, I can only speak for myself."  
"No, I've wanted to for awhile now. But I didn't want to come off as some selfish jerk. So I never pushed it, you know? I wanted you to be ready, and not be pressured into anything, just because I wanted it." John replied.  
Abby nodded. "I want to be with you now, more than anything." She leaned in for another kiss and pulled his hands off her waist and took them in her own. Abby stood up, John behind her, and lead the way to her bedroom. When they got there, she pushed John down on the bed so he was in a sitting position and put her hands on his shoulders. He freed the tie of her bathrobe and slowly pulled it off her shoulder, letting it drop to the floor. Putting Abby to arm's length, he admired the view of her only in a camisole and her underwear. She suddenly got shy, a blush rising to her cheeks. "You're perfect." He murmured, holding out his hand to her. She looked down at him and shook her head slightly. "It's true..." He continued. He drew her back and put his arms around her waist, throwing her onto the bed. He rolled on top of her and took her hands, kissing each palm. She smiled softly at him. She was so lovely, how her soft curls framed her round face. Her full lips waiting for his to unite with them. Unable to resist, he brushed his lips against hers, then sunk deeper into the kiss when she returned it with a dose of want, vigour, and passion. It ended and she encircled his face with her hands and stared into his eyes. He could have stayed there forever, staring back at her, lying there just like that, but there was more urgent matters at hand. His hands moved down to the hem of her camisole and slipping under it, travelling up her stomach. They finally got to her breasts, and he cupped them in his hands, his palms rubbing against the soft peaks. She moaned and began to untuck his shirt from his pants. She wasn't sure how she even managed to move, every touch of his seemed to send her into a trance. He felt her hand slowly undoing the buttons, and he was frozen in place, his only movement was his hands stroking her breasts. Her feel was incredible, it made him tremble. His heart skipped a few beats while she slowly pulled the skirt off his arms, leaving a trail of her touch behind the material. He reluctantly took his hands off her breasts and pulled them out of her shirt to let to her take his shirt completely off of him. He moved his hands back to the bottom of her shirt. She lifted her body to let him slide the shirt off of her. He rested his bare chest down on hers, the rough skin against smooth. It was hard to leave the stare he gave her, it bore into her and almost had her hypnotized. She would have done his every command he asked of her. She wanted him, but he didn't seem ready yet. She distracted herself by undoing his belt and sliding it out of the hooks. He took over, undoing the button and the zipper and pulling them off, throwing them onto the floor. Then he turned back to her. She was lying on the bed, hands pulled up to her chest, and was smiling seductively. It wasn't often when she felt comfortable enough to express herself like she was at that moment, and he enjoyed it. His hands went to her hips, and he slowly moved them down her sides, taking her underwear with them. When he got her panties off, he put a hand between her legs and ran a finger down her. She moaned softly and shifted to spread her legs wider. She thought she'd be nervous having him touch her like he was, but it felt too incredible for her to think any conscious thoughts. He pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh and urged his finger into her, rubbing her clitoris. He slowly inserted another finger, while bringing his lips from her thigh up to her stomach, across a breast, and up her neck, deciding he wanted to be kissing her. Her eyes were closed, and she was moving in time to meet the thrust of his fingers. Biting on her lower lip, and sensing her climax, he rubbed her clit with more vigour. Her ragged breathing became more heavy, and she reached her peak. Her body contracted, and she let out a deep, shuddering sigh.   
"Can you do that again?" She asked, breaking contact with his lips.   
"Maybe later." He said, leaning down to capture her in a kiss again. He tugged his boxers off and slid into her. Putting his hands on her hips, he slowly pushed into her over and over, her soft sighs being his motivation. She brought her hips up to meet his every time he came down on her, sending pleasing sensations through his groin. Being inside her was a new sense of euphoria. He looked down on her. Her eyes were fixated on his and he leaned down to kiss her. She never looked as beautiful as she did when they were making love. His hands at her sides were stroking her skin, sending chills up her spine. Good chills. Everything she felt was heightened even more by the fact that she loved him, and she could finally express that to him. Her moans gained in volume and length, they were like music to his ears. He thrust harder against her, wanting to pleasure her more than he wanted to be pleasured himself. Which wasn't often. Finally he felt the tremors go through her body and she cried out in bliss. Her eyes narrowed into slits and she lowered herself back into the comfort of the bed. She gazed at him through her tapering eyes as his own climax overtook him, making everything around him spin. Grunting, he collapsed on top of her, laying on her bare chest.  
"I love you." She whispered to him, grasping his hair and letting it run through her fingers.   
"I love you too." He whispered back, barely regaining his voice. He laid a trail of kisses up her neck.   
She let out a deep breath. "I'm glad we did this."  
He nodded. "Me too." He laid his head on her chest, and could feel her shivering slightly. He finally realized her sweaty skin was becoming cool to the touch. "Are you cold?"   
She let out a small laugh. "Might be. I can't feel anything at the moment."  
He lifted himself off of her and grabbed at the covers. He beckoned and she crawled into them with him, resting against him and closing her eyes.  
"Talk to me." She said.  
He seemed confused. "And tell you what?"   
"Anything. Tell me all your secrets that no one else knows. Tell me what your life was like when you were growing up. Tell me anything. I just want to hear the sound of your voice." She drew small circles on his chest with her finger.  
He let out a laugh. "All my secrets?"  
Abby nodded silently.   
"I've never loved anyone before I met you. I might have said it, and thought I meant it, but you showed me that I didn't. I never knew what love was before I met you."  
"Keep going..." Abby said, smiling.  
"You're the most special person I ever met, Abby, and lying here with you is what I've always wanted to do. And I'm glad we finally made love, because it was the most amazing thing I've ever done in my life." He paused for a minute. " So, now you know how I really feel, is that secret enough for you?"  
He looked down to see Abby fast asleep, softly breathing against his chest. He smiled and wrapped her up tighter in his arms, listening to her soft snores until he drifted off to sleep as well. 


	3. The Morning After

**The Morning After …**

**Robbie's Ramblings: Me (Robbie) again. This one's mine … kinda smutty, but not too graphic.  If that bothers ya, turn around now! J Enjoy … I love the feedback! **

~~ 

            Abby wakes up, entwined in the arms of another human being following a hiatus from any such experience. It is a good feeling; the warmth of soft skin touching skin, bleeding forth love from the pores and every other orifice imaginable, the sensation of a gradual upheaval of chest in whispered breaths against a drowsy head, lethargic from contented sleep. Lazily, she draws her tepid eyes upward, gazing adoringly upon his closed eyelids, silently admiring his chiseled but delicate features.  

Nestled in the crook of his arm, her hand slowly rises from the tangled heap of cottony sheets and contorted limbs to trace a languid pattern across his bare chest, moving in rhythm with the gentle rise and fall of his breaths.  She inhales, breathing in his scent.  It engulfs her, thrilling her senses with an unexpected jolt of invigorating energy.  All the while, a pale covering of sunlight bathes the room in natural radiance that is both soothing and serene to the drowsy eye.  

Still, slipping from his tender grasp and the confines of the twisted bed sheets, she winces, blinking away the pain of the bright light reflecting into her eyes.  Standing up to full height, she pauses to catch a fleeting glance of his sleeping figure.  She marvels at his beauty and innocence in slumber, reaching out to graze a single finger along his cheekbone to verify his existence.  He remains still as death, the soft caress of his breaths fluttering against her finger the only evidence that he is very much alive.  

With an absentminded smile that could illuminate a city, she tiptoes across the room and removes his heavy fabric robe from a hook on the door.  Silently, she slips the garment, many sizes too big, onto her exposed body.  The aged white terry-cloth, velvety-soft from use, cascades about her slight figure, leaving her body swimming in folds of fabric that reek of his scent.  Again, she is fixed in place, entranced and enthralled by the adverse effects it takes on her body, carrying her into a picture-perfect fantasy land. 

She pads across the room, entering the adjacent bathroom without a sound.  She gently closes the door, not noticing as he stirs in the bed, watching her fleeting figure disappear behind the woodwork. The over-sized robe falls to the floor in a heap that vaguely resembles a dollop of rich whipped cream atop a steaming mug of hot chocolate.  That thought is appealing as she steps over a dirty towel towards the large tub. She carefully reaches out and turns the faucet which reacts with a lackadaisical groan before springing to life as the tranquil sound of running water splashing in droplets against the ceramic fills her ears.     

            As the balmy water fills the tub, she languidly bustles about the small room, neatening clutter from the aftermath of the beginnings of a live-in-relationship and gathering a series of commodities with which to heighten her experience.  The heat rising from the tub in wisps of cloud-like steam begins to warm the room into a balmy sauna, tinting the mirrors with a gauzy layer of vapor.  Perched delicately on the edge of the tub, she begins to empty a slippery liquid into the frothy water.  Upon contact, the translucent pink-tinted liquid foams into a glutinous covering of bubbles.  She extends a tentative toe and places it into the tub, testing the temperature.  The sharp contrast with her own chilled foot sends a rejuvenated chill down her spine. Following a sigh of contentment that escapes her lips, she slips under the blanket of bubbles, the suds engulfing her limbs.  Contented, her sluggish eyes droop closed.  

            She's nearly re-escaped into the land of slumber when the door creaks open and he stealthily enters the room.  Conveniently lacking clothing already, he tiptoes over to where her head rests and presses a soft, loving kiss upon her temple.  His lips linger on her brow as her crack eyes open and her features are engulfed in another electric smile. It's now his turn to admire her natural glow.  Still silent, he brushes his lips across her forehead, kissing away the beads of perspiration that have gathered adjacent to her hairline. 

            She tilts her head backwards, meeting his lips with a furious passion.  While particles of his smell smash and collide together as they absorb into her nasal cavity, his taste explodes in her mouth.  His tongue against hers, mouth to mouth, is sweet and salty, both rough and warm.  She moans, a deep throaty sound that resonates into his eardrum and slowly becomes a guttural growl, begging him for impassioned intensity.  His hands snake forward, grasping her cheekbones.  Coarse thumbs gently massage the sides of her face as they draw apart, pausing to catch a breath. 

            And breathe they do, in synchronized harmony, heaving pants, quickening hearts.  Vigorous passion raises the temperature of the already steamy room. Their foreheads remain touching; two sets of eyes lastingly lingering upon the gaze of the other. A devilish smile spreads across his face.  

            His mouth moves towards her ear, gently nibbling on the lower lobe; teasingly flicking his tongue back and forth across the silky skin. He leans in closer, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. His voice is deep and husky, exerting a warm flow of air upon the side of her face that send a pleasing tingle down her spine. 

"Can I come in?"

            "I wouldn't have it any other way." 

He rises from his hunched position on the floor, lifting a long, toned leg into the tub.  She adjusts her position to make room for him to sit behind her.  As he leans down, she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him to her for another ardent kiss. 

"You take too long," she whispers. 

"I'm here now," he counters, gazing adoringly into her eyes.  Her eyes dance with a flame that has suddenly been ignited by his presence.  Raw, zealous passion emits from her gaze as he simply stares at her.  They've squeezed themselves into the tub together; her leaning up against his chest, nestled between his thigh and the side of the tub.  

"Kiss me." A fiery explosion in her soft brown eyes dares him to refuse, all the while making it impossible to do so.  

He complies, pulling her body against his.  Hands begin to roam, grasping, groping for something to hold onto.  Water sloshes from the side of the tub, but they are oblivious.  Butterfly kisses, airy and light flutter across both bodies, heating soft patches of exposed skin with warmth and pleasure.  

He cups her breast in his hand, tickling it with his tongue as she digs her fingernails repeatedly into his back, arching her body.  Together they soar to new heights, mouths and teeth grazing places previously unimaginable.  They've let go, lost touch with the world around them. Fingers twitch and roam.  Her hands massage the skin along his collarbone, feathering it with an aftermath of kisses.  They're whispering each others names, begging for absolution, for conclusion, for love.  

She shivers in delight, pulling on the fine hair at the back of his head.  At once, his forehead meets hers with a magnetic effect, meshing perspiration.  His eyes meet hers, questioning as she nods, breathing heavily.  She groans in approval, whispering kinky assurances into his ears as he deftly rearranges their bodies.  Something hot and hard presses against her upper thigh, goading her arousal further.  She knows that she has the power to do this to him and it feels good. 

"Wait, John, we don't have a condom." Disappointment colors her tone, dampening the fervor.  

"Then we'll make a baby." She draws a shuddering breath, gazing into his eyes questioningly, seeing only the love he holds and the smile that thrills her. 

"John Carter, make love to me."

And he does, nimbly entering her.  Again and again, they thrust; gaining intensity … pulsing, throbbing, and clinging. The world goes black beneath her closed eyelids, she's on the verge of climax when bursts of color erupt like fireworks across a dark sky.    She's trembling so hard, she can almost hear the pulsating beat of the fiery decorations as he reaches his own, empting inside of her. 

Exhausted but contented, they collapse into the chilling water.  She bites her lip and smiles at him, fueled solely by adrenaline.  

She grins lopsidedly, "Again?" 

"Anything for you, Abby, my love," He teases gently. 

Giggling like schoolchildren, they jump out of the cold tub, now shivering from the sudden drop in temperature.  She wraps herself in a huge towel, and he does likewise.  Turning from behind, he lifts her over his shoulder and carries her, giggling all the way, into the bedroom. 

"You know …" he murmurs softly against her ear, nuzzling the side of her neck as he reaches the bed and sets her down like a porcelain doll among fluffy pillows. He begins to drop flowery kisses along her cheekbone.  

"Hmm …?" She moans in approval, in satisfaction. 

"That's the first time we've done it in the bathtub …"

"There's a first time for everything …" She watches a grin of childish delight spread across his face as he leans in for a sweet kiss …

~~


	4. The First Time You Told Me

The First Time You Told Me

This one's another Robbie creation from this summer that we never got around to posting. Ah well, in this Carby slump that we're getting from TPTB, I feel like this is a great time for some fuzz.

Feedback is greatly appreciated; this one's for all my Carby gals from FF way back ;)

--------------------------------

The light from the small bedside lamp casts a warm glow upon the room.The room is silent, pierced only by the sound of contented sighs and the occasional page turning.Propped up against a series of pillows, he reads a medical journal, eyes eagerly scanning the pages, soaking up the information and committing it to memory.

Sitting beside him, reclining on her side, head up on one elbow, she struggles against the strains of unconsciousness about to engulf her.Periodically, her eyes flutter shut, and her head lulls dully to the side.But, drawing another breath, her eyes snap wide open, straining against the light, and fix her gaze unwaveringly back on him.

__

She sighs loudly, hoping to evoke a response from him.She's triumphant as he turns to her, smiling cheekily.He speaks; his voice is deep and soothing to the ear with an aura of playfulness.

"There something stuck in my teeth?"

She shakes her head, looking bewildered, as if a trance has just been broken. 

"Hmm …?"

"You've been staring at me for the past ten minutes."

She shrugs and shakes her head, drawing another deep breath as if she's about to say something.But she releases the air, a pensive look crossing her face.He cocks his head to the side, watching her intently as she looks like she's about to share an emotional revelation. But she is still silent, diverting her eyes elsewhere and breaking their gaze. 

He takes the folded up journal in his lap and sets in on the nightstand beside the bed they share.It falls with a soft thump, again jarring her daze. He turns back to her, reaching out a finger and gently running it tenderly along the length of her chin.A spark of emotion flickers across her features, tinting them with a hint of pleasure. He speaks again, but his tone is softer, matching the tranquil but cozy atmosphere of the room. He is suddenly less playful, more serious and loving, sensing her hunger for sensitivity. 

"We should get to sleep; you have an early shift tomorrow."

She shakes her head, smiling almost wistfully, and sits up to drape her arms around his neck.She pulls him close enough so they are head to head and impulsively leans in so their lips meet in a tender rendezvous.For a brief moment of passion, full warm lips massage each other, pulling gently with relaxed vigor.She pulls away, her lips inches away from his, and begins to speak softly, arms still around his neck. 

"I don't want to sleep right now; I just want to be with you. It feels like we never get to spend time like this together anymore."

A smile shimmers across his face at her amorous but implicit suggestion as they lean in for another brief kiss and pull away. 

"I get the feeling that you won't be saying that tomorrow morning at 5 AM when the alarm goes off your shift."

She shakes her head, causing their heads to rub together from the close proximity they are sitting at.

"I don't need to sleep.Sleep brings dreams, but when I'm with you, what's happening in reality is better than anything that could happen in a dream.I don't need to dream anymore." She pauses thoughtfully, her intense stare boring into him. "That's love, John." Another pause as an element of surprise mixed with an utmost seriousness and simplicity enters her voice. "I love you."

It comes out sounding almost like a question, but he fully understands the implications.They lean into another kiss, this one deeper and more passion filled.His arms pull her head close, as they fall to the bed, her body on top of his.He rolls over so that she is underneath him, as his hands begin to wander and trace patterns across her scantly clothed body. 

She giggles softly as he murmurs incoherent nothings into her ear. Laughing together, they escape under the billowing sheets. 

---------------- 

She sits at the desk at the hospital, frazzled and painted with exhaustion. Tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, she idly flips through a patient's chart, mind completely consumed by thoughts of bed and sleep. 

He walks up to the other side of the desk, leaning up against the wall, but she is oblivious to his presence. For a moment, he stares at her in delight.Without announcing his presence, he speaks.

"Me too."

"What?

His cocky grin is devilish and signature. He's glorifying in her confusion.

"I said me too.What you were saying last night about the reality being better than the dream and not wanting to sleep because of it. I agree."

She raises her eyebrows at him, looking expectantly for him to elaborate.Off his silence, she wonders aloud. 

"So what exactly are you trying to tell me?" 

He turns his body, about to walk away.Only his head stays focused on her, mouth moving in synchrony with his words.The sound that flows forth is truly spoken from the heart, short and simple, but very frank and truthful. 

"I love you, Abby." 

He grins and walks away. Her hand rushes to her mouth to contain the murmur of surprise.Slowly, her face breaks into a smile.The first time is the most special, she's been told.And it is.

They're in love. 

------------ 


End file.
